


Shards of the Sun and Moon

by SterlingAg



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Alternate Universe - Pokemon, Pokemon Breeder Derek Hale, Pokemon Generation II, Some elements past Gen II, Stiles does Pokemon contests
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-03
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-01-18 00:43:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1408711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SterlingAg/pseuds/SterlingAg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a fantastical world where marvelous creatures called Pokemon exist, there live a family of extraordinary people. The Hales are a family of Pokemon experts and know basically all the ins and outs of Pokemon. Derek Hale is a pokemon breeder who takes his berries and pokeblocks very seriously. He and his Umbreon were getting along just fine. That is, before the hyperactive Stiles Stilinski brought his Espy in to become the greatest contest pokemon ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dawn cast her pale pink fingers across the land of Slateport. Many people and homes were still sleeping. Some were beginning to rise along with the morning sun. But there was one home that was already very much so awake. The inhabitants of the Hale house had long since woken. Many of them were awake before the sun would rise. Rooms were to be cleaned, food to be prepared, schedules to be made—there were many things to do to prepare for the day. Derek Hale, a capable 23 year-old, looked at the list of trainers on his roster. He was in charge of nutrition and dietary plans for his clients. There was a bump against his leg and he looked down. He grinned softly and knelt down.

“Hey there boy,” he said softly, “You could have slept for a while longer.”

The Umbreon shook his head and nudged his head back in to Derek’s palm. Derek rubbed at the base of Umbreon’s ears. The pokémon rumbled happily in his throat. He scratched Umbreon’s head for a minute before patting him twice and standing.

Derek grabbed a deep wicker basket and put his hand on a door knob that went outside.

“Want to help me this morning?” He asked. The Umbreon barked excitedly, flicking his tail restlessly about. He bounded quickly out once Derek opened the door. Derek shook his head, a smile on his lips, and followed behind his pokémon. 

The Hale house sat on about thirty acres of land. The family itself was old and well-established. People from all across the regions knew of the Hale family and their doings. The family was full of experts and prodigies in many different fields of Pokémon. The members included world-class breeders, champion status trainers, scientists and researchers of the highest credentials, and many more. Derek was a breeder and one of the best the Hale family had ever seen. Not only was he fantastic with breeding, but nutrition and health concerns for pokémon were also his area of expertise. Ever since he had been little, he’d had a way with pokémon that none of the other Hales in his generation had. He wasn’t about battling or finding fame through defeating opponents with violence. Pitting pokémon against each other like that made his stomach drop. But, in that situation with those types of trainers, the best Derek could do was to make sure the diet and nutrition needs of the pokémon were being met and allowing them to be as strong as they could so to withstand any battles they might participate in. 

Derek stopped outside the greenhouse. The greenhouse was his responsibility, seeing as how he was the one who used the berries produced inside the most. So every morning he had to water the berry trees, check the berries, pick any ripe ones, and then sort the berries. Then he would move on to make the pokéblocks on his itinerary. He put the wicker basket down and grabbed the Wailmer Pail. His older sister Laura had given him it as a present for his tenth birthday party. He used it ever since. Because why not? It was practical and looked like a Wailmer, there was no reason not to use it. He put the opening of the pail under the water spout and turned it. Water filled the pail after a few moments. Derek let his Umbreon get a small drink before he turned the spout and shut the water off.

Derek opened the door to the greenhouse, wicker basket notched in his elbow and Wailmer pail in his hand. He was hit with a humid blast of air as he stepped inside. His Umbreon slipped between his legs and disappeared among the rows of berry trees. Derek dropped the basket on a table at the front of the greenhouse. It was stained with different colours from the inspection of many berries past. Small notches were in the wood of the table also from years and years of working with berries and other plants and roots that grew in the greenhouse. First on the to-do list for the day was to water the plants. Derek picked up the pail, careful not to let any of the liquid slosh out. He turned to his left and began to water the Oran trees in that plot. 

The greenhouse was set up in plots. It was a fairly large building holding over 100 plants inside. They were divided by plots and then subplots within the larger plots themselves. There were five large plots divided based on the number of plants within them. The plots were labelled as Pokeblock, Battle, Combination, Research, and Other. The plots are fairly self-explanatory. Within each plot were plants that produced berries that could be used as pokéblock and poffin ingredients, berries that could be used in battle and as hold items, a plot for other plants, and then a fourth plot for experimental plants and research. Then within these larger plots were the plots divided specifically to the plants. For example, right next to the greenhouse door was the Battle plot. A subplot for it was the Oran trees, which they had nearly 25 trees for. Other trees within this category of the greenhouse included Leppa, Chesto, Lum, and Rawst berries. There were also subplots that contained harder to find berries in the Battle category such as the Sitrus, Mago, Ipapa, Lansat, and even a couple Starf trees. These trees were difficult to care for and required the utmost specialized attention.

Then there was the Pokéblock plot. This plot contained berries that were used specifically as ingredients in pokéblocks, poffins, and berry powder. Derek loved this plot the most. Making pokéblocks and poffins was the challenge that he looked forward to everyday. There were so many different combinations from each type of berry. Then how they combined at what speeds and for which length of time. Not to mention the tastes of the pokémon. To get the best results for a pokémon that didn't like spicy foods, there were certain berries to use. There were ways to include the berry with the taste that a pokémon may not like in order to get the most out of the pokéblock. This was where Derek got his thrill. All of the puzzles and planning and just the fact that one really had to know what they were doing got his blood pumping. That was why he was a breeder and that was why he took care of the greenhouse. 

The next plot of land was the Combination plot. This plot held berries that were used as both pokéblock ingredients and could be directly used in battle. The fourth plot of land was for Other plants. Many of the plants and herbs here would be ground down and used in medicine. Derek was in charge of growing the medicine, but he left the actual production to his mother. She was the pharmacist of the family and she'd been doing it for much longer than she liked to admit. One day Derek would probably wander in to the medical field and the medicinal uses of the plants, but for now he was content with growing them and supplying his mother with quality ingredients for her work.

The fifth plot of land within the greenhouse was the Research and Development. Basically in this plot Derek just played around with the plants. He cross pollenated berries to see what he would get. He also played with the conditions that the berries were grown in to see if that had any effect on them. It was all very interesting, even if sometimes he did have to ask his Uncle Peter for assistance. Peter was a pokémon researcher and scientist. In other words, he just liked to pretend that he was much smarter than everyone else because he had PhD. That's not to say that the man wasn't brilliant. He had headed many research groups that had revolutionized the way the world saw and worked with pokémon in the last twenty five years. But that didn't mean Derek had to put up with Peter's smug "I'm-better-than-you-and-we-both-know-it" face.

Derek finished his rounds with watering. By the time he had watered all the plants, the sun was only about an hour from rising. As he had watered, he'd glanced at the fruits on the tree. He could tell a lot of the berries were ripe and ready to be picked. So he set down the Wailmer pail and picked up his deep wicker basket. He made his rounds, carefully plucking the fruits from their branches and placing them in the basket. He didn't jostle the basket so as to not bruise or otherwise damage any of the berries. Most people couldn't tell from just looking at his gruff exterior, but Derek always used the highest degree of caution and care when he tended to his greenhouse. 

The adult male stood right at six feet tall with a muscular build. Derek wanted to be just as healthy as his pokémon and his clients. He used his family's gym three times a week and always went for a run with his Umbreon at night. He preferred to wear dark colors because then he didn't have to do so many loads of laundry. Besides, the grey sweatpants that he'd had for three years had just reached the pinnacle of softness and comfort. There was no way he was letting go of those after so much work. Needless to say, with his wide shoulders and permanent 5 o'clock scruff, he intimidated a lot of people.

With his rounds complete, Derek grabbed his now empty Wailmer pail and covered his wicker basket with a cloth. He opened the door and stood there. Turning his body back towards the interior of the greenhouse, he whistled sharp and loud. A moment later, his Umbreon trotted from the depths of the greenhouse. He rubbed against Derek’s leg, letting his tail wrap lazily and affectionately around the man’s calf as he walked past. Derek smiled and closed the door to the greenhouse behind him.   
The next few hours of Derek’s morning consisted of him cataloguing and recording the picked berries of the day. He marked their weight, girth, taste, and other such factors on a spreadsheet. Then he started to make the pokéblocks and poffins that his customers would pick up that day. It was nearing the end of his pokéblock session when the intercom on his wall chimed.

“Derek?” Said Erica, the receptionist, “Are you in there?”

Derek stood, groaning slightly as he stretched his back. He walked over to the intercom and pressed the button.

“I’m here, what is it Erica?”

Erica’s voice was tinny over the speaker, “You have a new client. He needs an appraisal and the regular routine.”

“What’s his discipline?”

“Contests.”

“Send him and his pokémon to Room 305. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Can do.” The intercom clicked off. 

Derek cleaned up his workspace a little bit, moving the berries. He grabbed a clipboard from one of his drawers. It had the standard papers on it—a questionnaire for the trainer about needs and wants for his pokémon, desired results, and other concerns. There were also papers going over conditions of long standing contracts and clientele, forms to sign and other legal and medical things associated with the pokémon consultant business. 

When he reached Room 305, Derek could hear the client inside. 

“Okay,” the client said, “You’re going to be great. He’s going to love you, I know it. How could he not? He’d have to be crazy not to think you’re fantastic. No really—I mean it Espy! Don’t freak out on me now, man. We’ve come way too far for you to get cold feet now.”

Derek arched an eyebrow in question. This one was definitely going to be an interesting client. So he cleared his throat, and knocked on the door before entering the room.

“Good morning,” Derek said as he entered, “I’m Derek Hale. I’ll be your consultant during your time with us.”

He looked up as he said this. At first his eyes landed on the lilac forked tail that flicked about lazily. The Espeon sat daintily on its paws before wrapping its tail over its paws and stilling. It seemed to size Derek up for a moment and then looked up to its owner. Derek also turned his attention to the client. He was a boy, probably not much older than 19. He had short brown hair that was styled upwards and honey brown eyes that shone with nervousness. He wore a white undershirt beneath a dark blue hoodie that was unzipped. He didn’t have any Pokéballs on his belt so Derek wondered if the Espeon was the boy’s only pokémon or if he simply had left his others at home that day. Which wasn’t uncommon, trainers tended to ignore their other pokémon in favor of a “champion” that they felt they could mold in to the perfect pokémon.

Derek clenched his jaw at the thought. Honestly, pokémon trainers made him sick sometimes. This would just be another stuck up little kid who thought he was some big deal. His pokémon was the best but it could always be better. But no matter what, the kid would think he was hot shit because mommy and daddy had always been telling him so. Well, that was Derek’s other favorite part of the job—letting people know exactly where they stood. He let out a small breath through his nose to calm himself and attempt to think that perhaps this kid would be one of the rare trainers he could actually stand.

“To start off, I have a few questions to ask you and a few forms for you to look over,” and so Derek handed the clipboard off to the boy and knelt down. 

He offered his hand to the Espeon. The Espeon narrowed its eyes at Derek but sniffed the man’s hand. When it decided that Derek was no threat, it uncurled its tail as a way of giving Derek permission. Espeons were smart and Derek definitely appreciated that of them. He pulled a small treat out of his pocket and gave it to the Espeon.

The boy cleared his throat, “I’m Stiles by the way—Stiles Stilinski. That’s my Espy.”


	2. A New Client

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek would never have expected any clients to challenge his comfortable daily life. But then again, he had never met Stiles Stilinski and his Espy before. How exactly is serious Derek going to deal with the ambitious Stiles?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took me so long! I've just been absolutely swamped lately with finishing college and then coming back home and then starting up my summer job. Luckily, we took a road trip to Indiana which is a ten hour drive and I didn't have to drive so! Some quality writing time did ensue. 
> 
> Anyway, thank you to everyone who has read and commented so far. I love hearing from all of you and I keep every single kudo and comment email that I get. They just absolutely warm my heart! Once again, thanks so much for reading and I'm glad to hear that you've enjoyed!

Derek looked up at the trainer. He had short brown hair, only about long enough to tug on it with one's fingers. The man's fair skin had moles peppered across the surface. His eyes were a sort of molten, honied brown and made everything about him seem warm and comfortable. Fashionable clothes hung just right off his limbs that ended in long and agile looking fingers. Fingers that looked like they could tease and tantalize skin. The man flicked his tongue across his lips to moisten them--a motion that seemed like an unconscious response. It made Derek's gaze move to the movement and notice how soft and full the organs looked. He briefly wondered what they would look like after being bitten and sucked.

He blinked and cleared his head of such thoughts. First of all, he didn't even know this kid. Second of all, he wasn't at all interested in starting a relationship right now and he just wasn't about hook-ups. Thirdly, it was unprofessional to date a client. At least it always seemed to get Peter in trouble.

Stiles cleared his throat nervously and made Derek realize he had been silent for quite some time.

"Well," Derek began. He started to examine Espy, the pokemon seeming to not even mind the attention.

"What are your goals? Any specific needs or dietary restrictions?"

"The Grand Festival," Stiles said, "We want to make it to the Grand Festival."

Derek glanced up, "Contests?"

"Yeah," Stiles shrugged, "Espy could never be a battle pokemon."

Derek gently prompted Espy to open her mouth and she easily obeyed. He checked her teeth and color of her tongue. 

"She's very healthy," he said, jotting down more notes, "How old is she?"

"Three years," Stiles answered. This made Derek look up.

"Three?" He repeated, "She evolved from an Eevee?"

Stiles gave him a skeptical look, "Yeah and she came from an egg too. Aren't you supposed to be the expert here?"

"She must like you a lot."

"Well duh," Stiles rolled his eyes, "But why do you say that?"

Derek finished his initial inspection. He gave another treat to Espy and scratched at the base of her ear.

"Good girl," he said to her. She keened softly at his praise and nuzzled her face into his palm.

"It usually takes about four years for many trainers to reach the level of friendship some pokemon need to evolve. But for Eevees it takes an even longer amount, sometimes upwards of five to six years."

Derek stood and put his hands in his pockets.

"Wow," Stiles looked down at Espy. Her ear twitched, sensing his gaze and turned to look up at him. She blinked and tilted her head quizzically. Stiles grinned affectionally back.

"I can't ever imagine it taking that long. Espy is my best friend." he patted the space on the couch next to him. In no time at all, Espy jumped up and laid on the spot, resting her head on his thigh. His hand lightly stroked along her back. Stiles looked back to Derek.

"Oh! Sorry, I should have--is it okay?"

Derek waved his hand dismissively, "It's fine."

"Okay," Stiles continued to pet Espy, "So then, what's the fastest anyone has evolved an Eevee like this?"

"I believe there was a case that an Eevee was able to evolve after three years. That's the shortest amount that I know of."

Stiles smirked, "Well it's time to update your info. Espy evolved at two years."

"Two years?" Derek's gaze flickered between the pokemon and trainer, "That's quite a feat. You must really care for your pokemon if you were able to gain her trust so quickly."

The trainer shrugged a shoulder, " I didn't do anything special."

"Hm," Derek hummed, "Well your Espy is very healthy as far as I can tell. However we will need a full physical and medical examination. Erica can schedule you one for later this week."

Stiles nodded his understanding. Derek held his hand out for the clipboard he'd handed Stiles earlier. The younger male realized what Derek watched and passed the clipboard back. with a nod of thanks, Derek glanced at it. He briefly checked for the appropriate signatures. Even though his older sister Laura took care of all the legal things, he still had to at least see that the consent form and contact information were complete and signed. He was more interested in the questionnaire. Looking over the words written on the paper, he was surprised by how neat and straight the handwriting was. But his thoughts of hands that could write such square letters were interrupted abruptly.

"You don't have any Ribbons," he stated. He turned his gaze back up to Stiles, "You've never even won a Contest?"

"Well no but--"

"--you say you've entered more than 15 times--"

"--I know and--"

"--how could you not win even at the Normal Level?"

"Stop making fun of me!" Stiles practically yelled. Derek froze, eyes finally taking in the blotchy flush that went from the tips of Stiles' ears all the way beneath his collar. His golden eyes burned with embarrassment and frustration.

"My first ever contest I entered, "Stiles said, his jaw these, "We came in dead last. We got twenty points total--and that's only because the people hadn't seen an Espeon around here before and were interested by it."

He paused and looked down at there his hand rested between Espy's ears.

"I was so unprepared as a Coordinator that I completely choked on stage. So we lost and lost so bad. One of the judges even told me to maybe think about finding another hobby," he let out a dry chuckle. Espy looked up and bumped Stiles' stomach with her head.

"It was two months before I entered another contest and that one wasn't much better. We still ended up last, but we had more points at the finish. That was all I needed to keep me going. After that we just kept entering and trying and getting better. Now, with all our hard work, we finish second every time. That's the problem though," he grumbled with a bit of anger creeping into his voice, "For some reason we just can't get over that line into first and I don't understand why."

"And that's why you're here," Derek said.

Stiles sighed and nodded, looking a bit defeated.

"Yeah," he mumbled.

Derek looked Stiles over for a moment, then back to the papers.

"So," he said, "We'll begin Espy on a different diet. Theres a brand of food that will help her feel better and give her more energy. Also a pokeblock every other day or so to help keep her coat shiny and vibrant. We can create a training schedule for exercise and things that will be good practice and getting ready for contests.

"But then there's you," Derek said, turning his attention towards Stiles, "You need to become a better Coordinator."

"I'm already placing second every contest--"

"--but you want to be first. You said yourself you want to make it to the Grand Festival. Second just isn't going to get you there. Right now you might be a great Coordinator, but you have to be even better."

Stiles pursed his lips in consideration. After a moment, he gave a small nod.

"What do I need to do?" He finally asked.

Derek gave him a smirk. He clicked his pen and tapped his clipboard.

"Every month we have a mock contest. We use it to find strengths and weaknesses of both the Coordinators and their pokemon. Then we can better personalize a training regime."

"Okay," Stiles nodded slowly, "I can handle that. It's a fully mock contest with contest dress and everything?"

"Treat it as seriously as you would a contest in the contest hall. If not, we can't asses your skill properly and we'll both be wasting our time."

"I'll give it everything I've got," he grinned victoriously, "I can guarantee you've never seen anything like me and Espy."

Derek couldn't help but smirk, "I can believe that."

"When is it?"

"The twelfth." 

Stiles' eyes winded, "Friday? As in two days from now?"

"Are you not going to be ready?"

"No! I'll be ready. Definitely."

"Then we'll see you there, " Derek said. He held his hand out, "It was a pleasure meeting you Mr. Stilinski. I look forward to working with you and Espy in the future."

"Yeah," Stiles replied, meeting Derek's hand with a solid and firm grip, "See you on Friday, Mr. Hale." The handshake lasted perhaps a second too long for the situation, but Derek decided not to look in to it too much.

With that, Stiles left the room with Espy close on his heels. Derek sat down and went over his notes. He added some things and scratched out some things. He just stayed there for a moment.

"Stiles Stilinski and his Espy," he mumbled to himself. He shook his head with a small chuckle. At least now he had an interesting client. A smirk curled his lips as he stood and exited the room.

Derek finished the last poke block for a three week supply on Stiles' order. His Espy liked smoother foods, so he had to fled them longer than usual. Espy also didn't like spicy things. Derek stayed away from the spicy berries and focused on the sweeter ones. He wrote down the number of berries he used on a piece of paper. He also recorded the blend time and measured the smoothness of the blocks. These were probably some of the highest quality blocks he'd ever made. It was even better because they matched the pokemon's profile needs exactly. Derek hummed as he placed the blocks in a box.

"Grumpy Paws is humming?" Said a voice behind him, "Am I dreaming?"

Startled, Derek turned around quickly. He relaxed slightly when he saw who had spoken to him.

"Cora," he said, "Haven't I told you to knock?"

"I did," she replied, "Twice."

Derek blinked, "Oh."

"What's got you in such a good mood?" She asked, moving towards his workbench with a small stack of papers in her hand.

"Just finished an order for a client," he shrugged, "Nothing too crazy. What are those?"

She handed him the papers, "This week's orders and your upcoming appointments."

"Thanks," he mumbled as his eyes scanned the pages quickly. A frown pulled his lips down and his eyebrows knit together.

"This appointment is during the mock contest. I'll have to have Erica reschedule it."

Cora looked questioningly at him, "Since when are you so interested in the mock contests? Last I checked, contests were Laura's division."

"They are--it's just--"

"Could the reason you're so upbeat and flustered right now have anything to do with that new client that came in today?"

"Stiles? OF course not. Why would he be important?"

"So his name is Stiles? That's unique," she said with a grin, "Erica said he was a cutie. So spill it or I'll tell Mom."

"Cora, it's not--"

"I'll tell Peter."

Derek hesitated and his frown deepened.

"Stiles is just like any other client. He's not any different from anyone else."

Cora rolled her green eyes, "You're lying to me big brother. But I don't think even you know that. So I guess I can let it slide. Anyway, you deserve to have some fun Der. It's been a while since your last relationship and you're much too young and pretty to be single for long."

"He's a client Cora," Derek said softly, "I can't." 

"Your loss," she shrugged and stopped in the doorframe as she was leaving, "I'll ask Erica about rescheduling that appointment. But Derek, you should probably think about a few things and get them figured out before the contest on Friday. Or else this is going to be really difficult for everyone--especially you." Then she disappeared down the hall. Derek let out a big sigh and sat back in his chair. His head fell back and he stared at the ceiling.

"Maybe this is a bad idea," he said to the empty room. A groan escaped his lips and he swiveled around in circles in his chair.

**Author's Note:**

> So it begins.


End file.
